Purblind
by AntebellumHope
Summary: His sight is not the only thing he lost in the intervening years. Her code is not the only thing she's broken. Set slightly before SAINW, Leo tries one last time to piece his heart and its holder back together.


~*.*~

_Chorus romance says good night.  
>Close your eyes and I'll close mine.<br>Remember you, remember me.  
>Hurt the first, the last, between.<em>

_-Flyleaf, "So I Thought"_

_~*.*~  
><em>

She was waiting for him in the rain. He chuckled grimly. They could never meet when the sun might actually show its face and flood his own with warmth. It was fitting really. He lived and breathed and fought in a world of shadows. His old friends enveloped him in the chill of the night, concealing him, generously giving him a moment to himself.

He remembered her hair had been long enough to scrape her collar bones, short enough to frame her face and draw her prey into her eyes. Jaded gems they were, and the lightest sea green he had ever seen. Not that he'd have ever admitted it, maybe not even to himself, but an odd sensation spread over him each time he'd been captured. Flooded with a chill, every nerve burned into submission, every thought unchecked. It was as if she reached into his mind and stole away pieces of him.

He grinned darkly. Stole away _more_ of him. And she would always wait in the rain. It didn't bother him as much anymore, what she took, from whence she took. There wasn't much left to give besides footprints slick with mud. He braced for the jump ahead, proud of himself for landing softly and dispersing his momentum in several feet of roll. Something popped when he stood and pain ground into his lower back and hips.

_Small victories_, he reminded himself. _Small victories._

The family saying had gotten them through the hard times. _Take small victories where you can, and you will never lose the war._ He shook his head as he wondered for the umpteenth time if his father had ever fought the war with old age.

He had been tempted to wait until the storm had passed, forcing her to see the sun just once more. He was sure she remembered. In all her twisted thoughts, surely, surely, she felt or at least recalled feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks as she stood in its light. Though perhaps...perhaps she was as eroded by the years as he, perhaps she had stepped into the light once too often.

He slid to a stop, filling his burning lungs with air and rainwater and flecks of rubble. A hoarse cough worked its way out of his mouth, saliva gathering at the corners only to be wash away. Well, if she was lucky, this blasted flu didn't catch her every winter.

_You should take up smoking, bro. I think _I _hack up lung tissue less than you._

His brother's deadpan remarks drifted through his head, and he rolled his eyes. That was...what, three Christmases ago? They hadn't seen much of each other since, only passing glances, only allies on the warfront. He shook away the familiar pang in his chest as he stole across the river.

It was nearly three in the morning. The factories would be gearing up to churn out more of those debased machinations, the people would be shuffling to work. He hated being out at this time. This hour brought out the hopefuls, the up-and-coming leaders who refused to see this morning as their last. The fools struggled against their bindings, occasionally breaking free. The scuffling from the street below told him at least one had done just that. Sharp protests rang out followed by wanton gunfire. He sighed. At least the blood would be washed away.

Her skin would probably sag in places and pinch in others, and her muscles might twitch under the strain of the run. She would be slower, stiffer, only able to listen to her joints as they cracked and creaked. Her hair would probably be silver with age.

_Yes_, he decided, _silver. She wouldn't look right with white hair._ _And she would never have let herself go. Probably just as strong and spry now as then._

Rubbing a calloused hand over his shoulder, he pulled the trench tighter around himself and turned up the collar. Droplets fell on his head like stones, faster and faster until the sharp staccato cadence reached its pinnacle. He bumped into a steel pole, relieved to find the underbelly of the water tower as suitable shelter. He hated the rain and could only guess what she found so fascinating in it.

~*.*~

He probably would have been ashamed to know that she had been following him since he passed the bridge. It was entirely possible he had sensed her presence and had chosen not to react, but the carefree manner in which his head dipped as he considered the rain and his temporary shelter said otherwise. It was…odd to see him looking his age. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but the thick physique and regal stature were not it. Frailty, perhaps. Bitterness...well, that was nothing new. Resignation, yes, that was most definitely there. She pursed her lips and watched her breath fan out before her.

His face closed off instantly, and his posture became more guarded as she trod toward him. He took an unconscious step back into the shadows, hiding his face from her. The stand off abruptly ended with a violent sneeze.

"Ugh." He passed a sleeve under his nostrils as he muttered, "We couldn't have done this somewhere warm…"

A wry smile fell on her lips. "You know I cannot risk being seen."

His smirk was ironic. "Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that here." He lowered his head until the faint neon lighting cast itself on the shades wrapped around his face.

She scowled. "I did not mean…"

Her discomfort only widened his smile as he knelt into a _seiza_, a gesture for her to do the same. She sat, keeping a little over a foot of distance between them. They perched on the roof's edge unmoving. Neither ventured to speak.

After a while, he offered, "It's been nearly ten years."

"It has."

He patted the ground in front of him as though looking for spare change until he found her knee. She stiffened at the contact, only relaxing when the wayward hand was retracted. However, the hand did not return to his knee but worked its way up to the glasses to wipe away the water from the lenses.

"How long has it been?"

"Hm?"

She did not answer, just gave him a knowing look that brought a flush across his face.

He shrugged. "A lifetime ago, it seems." He paused, unease suddenly flooding his countenance. Cocking his head to the left, he ventured, "May I?"

"What do you - ?" Then she saw the open hands held out to her and released a shuddering breath. He inched his way closer when she did not openly fight him.

He ran his fingers through her hair first, testing its weight and noting where it fell. "What color is it?"

"Grey." Her displeasure with time's toll was obvious.

"Is it dark like granite?"

"Lighter. Almost silver." Curious, he seemed almost pleased with the answer.

He traced her nose, feathered over her brow, caressed her lips. The battle-hardened fingers skirted her jaw line and pushed her chin up slightly, so that she had to look into his face. A network of scars and scrapes wound its way from his cheekbones to the crown of his head. Some were black and faded. Some were fresh, even now offering a squirt of crimson. The garish way in which they marred him made her nauseous.

"Don't shut your eyes." He murmured.

His fingers quickly ran over the whole of her features one last time before disappearing as swiftly as they had appeared, leaving her skin tingling.

"You've aged."

She snorted. "You are surprised?"

The look was almost wounded, and she instantly regretted the harshness in her tone. "A little."

She shifted her weight onto her better leg and considered him as he listened to the movement. The years had been even less kind to him than to her. She saw the arthritic gait when he stood, felt the trembling in the hands that helped her to her feet. Poised as ever, he nonetheless held a wider stance than she remembered, steadying himself against the wind and gravity. The creeping movement of the sinew beneath his skin was more pronounced, even as he merely breathed.

She waited for him to move, to either strike or flee as he chose. She waited to see a pitch of shadow where he had once stood. She waited to see him flying freely. youthfully, over the buildings. She waited and waited and waited.

~*.*~

He stood solidly against the howling wind that had kicked up, and shuddered against the cold. He could have remained there until dawn. She seemed to be waiting for him to make a move or to speak again. He was just as anxious as she. On an impulse, he grabbed for her hand, pleased that he had correctly guessed where she stood and even more pleased that she did not pull away.

_Small victories._

He brought her further under the makeshift chantey. "At least wait out the storm."

"If you insist."

Her hand rested lightly on his. She picked at the leathery brace he wore around his wrist, snapping loose strings and tying off longer pieces. As she pulled the sleeve of the coat back into place, he flexed his hand. It fit more snuggly into the glove, and the pain that had been there for nearly a week virtually disappeared.

Her hand had steadily crept up his arm, and he caught it just before she caught the specs. He could feel the heat in her stare, and he almost laughed. There they went! Lighting up his face and taking bits of his soul. He loosened his grip and allowed her a small pleasure. The glasses fell away from his face and landed somewhere to his right. He nearly groaned when she whispered, "Don't shut your eyes."

Her touch was gentle and coaxing. Cool fingertips rested in the dark bags he knew were gathering under his eyes. He felt his lids flutter, and she froze when his milky white orbs swiveled in her general direction. Fire raced through his veins as she followed the scars from the top of his head to his chin, passing over his eyes and seeing what had taken his vision.

"She was beautiful." He said nonchalantly.

"Who?"

"The last person I ever saw."

"Oh." She sounded intrigued, and maybe even a little...hurt?...and hastily pulled her hand away. "Where..." She changed the question to a statement. "She must have been skilled to best you."

"Oh, she was. One of the toughest opponents I'd ever faced." The admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Part of a raid on an old base years ago. Caught me off guard, distracted by an injured comrade."

"Have I met her?"

He outright laughed at that. "I'm sure you knew her at one point. She was a goddess with a sword, rivaling Athena herself!"

"She was wise, too, then?"

His face fell a little, and he felt her leaning on the wall beside him. "I thought so, once."

"What changed your mind?"

If she sensed the turbulent waters in which the conversation was now treading, she made no move to show it. He wheezed out another round of coughs and folded his arms against himself.

"She...came to a crossroads of sorts." He knelt and picked up a rock and an old moth eaten shoe before he found his lenses. Turning them over in his hand, he brushed away the grime and placed them in their rightful spot. He squared his shoulders as he stood.

Almost imperceptibly, she asked, "What did she choose?"

"The wide gate and the broad path beyond."

A silence fell over them as each entertained their thoughts. They stood face to face, arms unsure whether to stay across the chest or hang limply at the sides. The storm blew over in just under an hour, leaving the sun plenty of time to cross the eastern seaboard. He knew it was approaching dawn when she turned away from him. He'd almost forgotten that she'd never seen a sunrise.

"Maybe she had no other choice."

Her voice penetrated the night and startled him with its hard edge. He sighed sadly and shook his head. "You and I both know the paths we are on are never set in stone. She could have changed."

"No," she replied tiredly. "No, she could not. That path is one you walk ever alone."

The hesitant admission loosened some of the ice around his heart, and he flanked her as she looked out over the desolate land before them. Goosebumps grew up her arm as he stroked it, and her erect posture may have even wavered for a moment as he closed the distance between.

A tear or two jerked at his vision. He swallowed past the knot in his throat, but his voice still came out hoarse. "I wouldn't have let you! My lord, woman! How many times did I pull you off of that path only to have you spit in my face? How many times did I have to wonder how long it would be before you destroyed yourself?"

He shook her, his frustration growing in the strained quiet. And suddenly, deflated and defeated by answers he'd long ago come to terms with, he lowered his forehead to hers. "How many times did I wonder if I might have loved you."

The breathy confession warmed her skin, and he carefully partook of the wind chapped lips. Words, thoughts, memories slowly stolen in that moment would never be his again, he knew. As much as he dreaded the coming day without her, as much as he hated himself for his lowered defenses, and as much as he scorned what she had done and was going to do, he still gave her what pieces were left.

The sky broke again as he found himself hugging dead air. Her footsteps were rapid and heavy as she ran, and plodded south across four structures before he could no longer hear her. Raising a hand in her direction, he was relieved to find he no longer need sweep up the remnants of his heart. There was nothing left but the cold, accursed rain.

"Until next we meet, beloved enemy."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And here I thought I'd get through a story without having to leave one of these. But a thought occurred to me. Yes, I kinda sorta might have maybe paired Leo and Karai. Yes, I have probably lost my mind in doing so. And no, I'm not a huge fan of this pairing, but...it was intriguing to think somewhere down the line, when they're older and have even less options...I know, I know. Thoughts?

Anyway, I was feeling really angsty and thought I'd might as well do something productive with it. In all likelihood, this will be a one-shot, but I have thought of doing a series of one shots/short stories that are related, all of them set before Donnie's adventures in this alternate dimension. In that light, I suppose this is a companion piece to _Dystopia _and _Epistle._

**A/N, pt. 2: **As of 28 July, this is a chapter story. And I wanted to explain the genre change. This is not going to be a cute, fluffy, angsty little love story. While there will be some Leo/Karai hinted at, this is the most overt showing there will be._  
><em>


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